Just 'the Doctor'
by GreyTardis
Summary: It's 1915. Sybil Crawley meets a man, who wears strange clothing and tells her about the future. She shares her findings with her favorite chauffeur. It's a bad summary, but I hope you'll enjoy the story!


**A/N: I didn't do any research for this fic, so there'll probably be mistakes. As for the setting, this takes place just before Sybil leaves for her nurse training, I figured it'd be somewhere in October. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: It's a pity, but only the plot and the iPhone are mine.**

* * *

It had all been settled. Cousin Isobel told her the great news this morning; she could actually get into the nursing school. Sybil's visit had already taken longer than she had intended to and she was on her way home. She walked through the village, which was quiet as usual, but an object that hadn't been there before she left caught her attention. It looked like a tall, blue box, and there was a man standing next to it. He wore rather odd clothing, a pair of trousers made of a material she didn't recognise, same for the jacket. Not able to repress her curiosity she walked closer. The man seemed to be glad to see her, because immediately after she'd caught his eye he walked towards her.

''Excuse me, miss, but can you tell me what year it is?'' She gave him, not caring how rude it made her appear, a look. How could one _not_ know what year it is? There is a bloody _war_ on!

''Is this a joke?'' She asked sceptically. The man's eyes widened a bit.

''No, no, not at all. I'm just a little lost, that's all.'' He replied. Sybil still didn't quite trust this man and prepared herself for some kind of practical joke when she answered him.

''It's the 26th of October, 1915. This town is called Downton, county York. I am Lady Sybil Crawley, at your service.'' She grinned as she held her hand out for him to shake. He took it.

''The Doctor, nice to meet you.''

''Doctor who?'' Sybil asked curiously.

''Just 'the Doctor','' He answered, ''I get that a lot. But 1915, did you say? So we're in the middle of the First World War, huh. Interesting.'' _No name but a title?_ Sybil though, _Well, if that's what he wants to be called, I guess that's alright..._ But then something he'd said gave her a fright.

''What do you mean, _First_ World War? Are there more to come?'' The horror was most evident in her voice. This man couldn't possibly be serious, but somehow it seemed like he knew what he was talking about. The Doctor immediately realised his mistake and said,

''Uh, never mind what I said, surely you wouldn't believe a guy so weirdly dressed as me.''

''Don't say that. How could you know, anyway?'' Sybil asked. Why would someone say something like that, wasn't this war horrible enough? She looked past him at the box, but even as she took a look up close she couldn't make out what it was. ''What's this thing, if I may ask?''

''It's my means of transportation.'' The Doctor said, smiling proudly.

''It looks pretty solid to me.'' Sybil raised one eyebrow at the box.

''That's just a disguise,'' The Doctor explained, ''It's a time machine.'' Sybil chuckled.

''Do you expect me to actually believe that? Prove it.''

''Sure thing.'' The Doctor searched his pockets for a moment and then found what he was looking for; some sort of metal bar. He noticed Sybil's questioning look and explained.

''It's a phone.''

''What? That's not possible.'' Sybil said, astonished. ''It's just- It's a- I don't even know what it is. And where does one even speak into, if this really is a telephone?'' She couldn't quite understand why this man insisted that metal bar to be telephone. Maybe he really was mad.

''I understand your confusion,'' the Doctor spoke, ''But it's true. Do you want me to demonstrate?''

''If you'd like,'' Sybil said, hoping she wouldn't sound too eager. The Doctor pressed a small button at the lower side of the bar and suddenly the bar lighted up. Sybil gasped and tried to keep her heartbeat in check. ''What is _that_?'' She whispered. The Doctor grinned and brought the object closer to her so she could see. As if paralyzed, Sybil stared at the screen. A picture of a kitten covered the metal bar, except for a centimetre on top and at the bottom, where that one button was also stationed.

''The iPhone 5. It's an old model, but works sufficient enough.'' He shrugged and moved his index finger over the screen. Sybil jumped at a clicking sound, apparently coming from the object. ''I just unlocked it,'' The Doctor explained, ''There really is nothing to be afraid of.'' Sybil shook her head to get rid of the odd sensation that had taken control of her. Then she pinched her arm, but nothing happened. This wasn't a dream.

''So… What does it do? Can you really call someone with that?'' Sybil managed to ask.

''Certainly, and most people use it for sending messages. You can play games, too.'' He answered.

''Messages like a telegram?''

''Kind of, yes.'' The Doctor moved his finger and tapped the screen a few times. Sybil was absolutely mind-blown as she saw the appearance of the screen change. It seemed to have buttons, but after tapping one of them they just seemed to disappear and something else had taken its place. ''Do you want to call someone?''

''Excuse me?''

''Do you want to try calling, I asked.'' She didn't quite know what to think of it, but only trying couldn't do any harm, could it? And if she was going to be a nurse, she had to get rid of the fear of something this silly.

''Yes.'' She replied boldly. The Doctor grinned.

''Fantastic! Do you know someone's phone number?'' Sybil tried to think of something, but didn't succeed.

''Well, usually an operator connects you to whom you'd like to speak to, so no, I don't know anyone's number.'' She said.

''Ah, yes. Forgive me; I'd forgotten when I was. They don't use operators in the future.'' Sybil was, once again, taken aback by this statement. No operators? But before she could ask, she got a question in return. ''Don't you have an alarm number or something? For emergency calls and that kind of thing.'' The Doctor asked.

''Not that I know of,'' Sybil replied, feeling almost bad about not knowing, ''I've never had to use such number before. But it might exist. We could ask-''

''Don't mind; this is way faster.'' The Doctor cut in. He was furiously tapping his 'telephone', and Sybil wondered if he actually knew what he was doing. ''Ah, found it. Nothing you can't find on Wikipedia.'' Sybil wanted to ask what that was, but then the Doctor handed her the telephone. ''You should get the police now.'' He explained. The line stayed silent for a while, but suddenly she heard a voice.

''This is the police. What can I do to help?'' Sybil almost let the telephone slip out of her hands. She gave the Doctor a questioning look, but he urged her to talk. Talk into this bizarre thing.

''Eh, yes. I have a question.'' Sybil replied. She wondered if it'd actually work, but given the fact she was talking to someone, it just might.

''What is it, ma'am?'' The voice on the other side said and Sybil tried her best not to gasp. _It worked. _She had no idea what to say next, and asked,

''When does the next train leave?'' She saw the Doctor grinning from the corner of her eye, but ignored him.

''I'm sorry ma'am, but I can't help you with that. This is an emergency line. Good day.'' Sybil heard a click and then a beep, and figured the person on the other side had hung up on her. She bit her lip as she realised how odd that conversation had been and gave the telephone back.

''I'd say you're a natural, Sybil.'' The Doctor said with a broad smile, and Sybil decided not to remind him of her station. Apparently, he hadn't noticed she was an aristocrat, and conversation like this seemed fine. There wasn't any tension and Sybil was glad of it.

''So how did you do it?'' She asked, ''Activating the telephone, I mean. How do those disappearing buttons work?'' The Doctor chuckled.

''It responses to my touch. Do you want to try?'' He asked after seeing her unbelieving look. ''You could play a fun game called 'Temple run', if you'd like.''

''Alright,'' Sybil said, radiating from excitement, ''But I'm afraid you have to explain it to me first.''

''It's very simple. Alright. You are in control of this character, and basically running away from evil monkeys. You have to take turns like this,'' He moved his finger from the middle to the left and right of the screen, ''the direction depends on the way you move your finger. There will also be obstacles on your way, such as trees. You must jump over the branches, and duck at the big trees. Like this.'' He moved his finger up and down, ''you might come across fire or a fence, in that case you can choose whether you jump or duck. Do you understand?'' Sybil swallowed and tried to comprehend all the information.

''I think so. Turn left and right, jump and duck.''

''One more thing,'' The Doctor said, ''If you make a mistake, the monkeys get you and it's game over. Ready?'' Sybil nodded as he gave her the phone. He pressed a button and suddenly a running man appeared on the screen. ''Watch out for the-'' The Doctor warned, but she already walked into the tree.

''This is really hard.'' Sybil murmured as she looked at the screen with her stats. She wanted to try again, and tapped the button that said 'Run again'. To her surprise, it worked. She got further this time, but was taken by surprise by a branch close after another and her character tripped. She tried again.

''Why doesn't he succeed?'' Sybil asked irritated. This was the fifth time she made a mistake.

''He can't.'' The Doctor answered. ''He keeps running. That's how he was programmed.''

''So you can't finish the game?'' It seemed pointless.

''Nope!'' The Doctor answered with a grin. ''That's what makes it so addicting.''

''It really is a fascinating thing.'' Sybil mused.

''This isn't all there is to it, you know.'' The Doctor smiled. ''It can take photos, too.''

''I don't believe you.'' Sybil said, folding her arms rather unladylike.

''You didn't believe me before.'' The Doctor said and he turned the phone around. ''Do you see this small circle? That's what takes the photo.'' Sybil raised one eyebrow. ''Wait. I'll take on of you.'' He took a step back and lifted the phone. Sybil smiled broadly as she waited. A short clicking sound followed a flash which seemed to be emitted somewhere close to the circle. ''Done.'' The Doctor stated. ''Do you want to see it?''

''_Can_ I see it?'' Sybil asked curiously, as the photograph couldn't obviously be developed yet.

''Sure, why not.'' The Doctor said, and turned the screen for Sybil to see. Her eyes widened at her spitting image, fully in colour.

''Why is it in there? Can you get it out?'' Sybil wondered.

''I'd need to print it,'' The Doctor explained, ''and I couldn't possibly do it here. I'd have to get back to the future.'' He looked really sorry. They'd had a good time in each others company.

''Promise to send it to me.'' Sybil urged.

''I promise.'' The Doctor said with a wide smile. ''I'm afraid I must get going. And I figure you must, as well.'' Sybil smiled back at him.

''It truly was lovely to meet you, Doctor.''

''Likewise, Sybil Crawley.'' He answered. Sybil took a few steps backwards as she watched him open the door of the box and stepping inside. ''I'll get it to you as soon as possible.'' He said, indicating the photo by holding up his phone.

''Thank you! I am very grateful.'' She said, beaming. The door closed and a strange noise was heard as the box started disappearing. Sybil sighed when the box was completely gone. She probably some time before anyone would start missing her, and right now she had to see someone and tell him about what she'd experienced.

* * *

''The future sure seems exciting, doesn't it Branson?'' Sybil said. After telling him the news of Cousin Isobel, she'd told her favourite chauffeur the whole story of her encounter this afternoon.

''It does,'' He said grinning, ''Certainly if they have telephones like _that_.''

''Don't look like that.'' He tried to erase the cheeky expression off his face but didn't quite succeed.

''I'm sorry milady, but do you expect me to _believe_ it?'' He asked, locking his eyes in hers. She looked at him, astonished.

''Don't you? Really Branson, you cannot have thought me making it up. Nobody has that great an imagination.''

''That may be true, but can you expect me to believe such a tale without seeing it for myself? Beg your pardon, milady, but I hope you can agree with me as I say it does sound wicked.'' She huffed and directed her look to the car, away from his face.

''You'll see. He made me a promise, Branson, he'll send me the photograph as soon as it's ready.'' She said, lifting her chin in a fashion her grandmother would have approved of.

''Milady, I hope you realise I would very much like your story to be true, if that device was as enthralling as you described. And I know you'd never lie to me about something like this, but… Right now, it is very hard for me to imagine.'' She stood up from the workbench she was sitting on and touched his shoulder while she passed him.

''It is alright, Branson. I know it's a little unbelievable,'' She sighed- ''But I could never stay angry with you for long.'' She smiled, and with that she left the garage, very much hoping her awaited letter would arrive in the morning.

* * *

It seemed Lady Luck was on her side. The following morning, Carson handed her a letter. Her father shot her a glance, but didn't enquire her about it. Sybil didn't look at its content just yet and waited until breakfast was over. Once she was alone in her room, she opened the envelope. She read the note which was included first.

Sybil Crawley,

It was nice meeting you, and may luck be with you in this war time. I can assure you the war will only last until 1918, so keep faith. Here is the photo I took the other day. The people here choose not to develop their pictures that often, but I found someone who still did. I had to travel al the way back to 1915 to send it, but I'm sure it's worth it. I very much hope we'll meet again in the future.

Your friend,

The Doctor.

Just behind the note she found the photograph. It wasn't like anything she'd ever seen. The material it was printed on felt odd, strangely smooth, and it reflected the light that fell on it. But that was just the material. Sybil couldn't even look at that reflection of herself without awe, the colours of the dress she wore that day beaming off the photograph. Every fold and crease, shadow and every other detail so magnificently visible; nothing like the grainy black-and-white photographs which could be found in the house. Her fingers marvelled over the picture and the same longing which made her go to the garage yesterday took possession over her again.

* * *

Sybil chuckled as she walked inside the garage. _She loved it when she was right_. As if she were at a fancy drawing room in London, she sat down at the workbench, waiting for Branson to join her. She held the envelope steady in her hands, and could not wait to show him what was in it. He appeared from around a corner and wiped his hands on a rag.

''I see the letter has arrived.'' Branson stated.

''It has.'' Sybil's smile managed to light up the room.

''And… Did it bring what you expected?'' Branson enquired carefully, not wanting to hurt her in case of disappointment. But, to his relief, her smile didn't fade.

''It did. Do you want to see?'' She teased, knowing he, of all people, would want to see it.

''Sure.'' She walked over to where he stood and handed him the envelope. He wiped his hands one more time to prevent the envelope from getting smudged. Just like Sybil, he read the note first.

''1918? Three more years?'' Branson wondered, ''How could he possibly know a thing like that?'' Sybil shrugged.

''I don't know. But considering he's from the future, I shan't doubt it.'' Branson opened his mouth to contradict her on that, but she spoke up before he could. ''Look at the photograph he has sent and you'll believe me.''

Branson carefully lifted the photograph from the envelope, amazed. ''What's this?''

''It's developed in his time,'' Sybil explained, ''It came with the morning post.'' Branson looked and marvelled at the photograph the same way Sybil had the same morning.

''It's… I don't have words for this. And I don't understand why people wouldn't develop their photographs if they would come to look like… Like _this_.'' Branson wondered, ''Do you understand it, milady? Where are they keeping their photographs if not like this?''

Sybil shook her head. ''Maybe inside the devices like the one he showed me. It seems to be capable of that. I agree it does sound odd not to have this kind of photographs in the future anymore.'' She walked over to where he stood and took the photograph from his hands. ''What do you think, Branson?''

''Think of what, milady?'' He asked. She bit her lip and tore her gaze away from the picture.

''Well,'' A blush appeared on her cheeks, ''what do you think of _me_, in the photograph, I mean.'' He grinned cheekily.

''Marvellous as ever, milady.''

Sybil smiled widely. ''Why thank you, Branson.''

''Not at all, milady.'' He grinned back at her.

* * *

**A/N2: That was it! I had a lot of fun writing this, so I'd like to hear your thoughts.**


End file.
